Sleepy Hollow
by Tricks AND Treats Contest
Summary: In the "Legend of Sleepy Hollow," Ichabod Crane, after losing the hand of his love, Katrina, was taken by the Headless Horseman, never to be seen again. What if the legend wasn't quite true?


Standard Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended.

Sleepy Hollow

"Bella, c'mon. We're going to be late!" Angela yelled out across the parking lot of our Columbia dorm. She waved at me impatiently while throwing her duffel bag into her boyfriend Ben's car.

Angela and I had met as dorm mates our freshman year. We'd both been quiet, studious, and attending on academic scholarships, so a great friendship had been born. But while Angela had found the true love of her life in a fellow pre-med student Ben, I'd gone through the three prior years of our college tenure without a man in my life.

Well, that is if you didn't count Jacob - my best friend, turned wanna-be boyfriend. He visited as often as he could, considering we were living across the country from one another. It was my turn to make the trip back to Forks at Thanksgiving, but considering how Jacob had left New York in a huff the week prior, I didn't know if I wanted to go or not. He was growing more and more agitated with my inability to see him as anything other than a brother.

And while I might want to strangle him on a regular basis, Jake really was a good part of my high school years. My mother, Renee, had dropped me off to live with my taciturn father, Charlie, when I'd completed my final year in middle school. A flake by anyone's definition, my mother had love in spades, but stability, not so much. While she'd flitted around the United States with her much younger baseball- playing boyfriend, I'd returned home to the man who'd made me feel like a princess . . . in his quiet, unassuming way.

Renee and her boyfriend, Phil, were killed in a motorcycle accident at the end of my freshman year in high school, leaving me memories of a wonderful, but slightly chaotic, mother. Charlie had been my savior, until God called him home my senior year in high school. I would never forget his deputy Mark's face when I'd opened the door. Hat in hand, he'd been struck speechless. My father had died attempting to rescue a baby from a burning car. Neither had survived the explosion. My heart hadn't either.

I'd turned eighteen the month before, so no one could force me to leave the house, not even Jacob and his father, Billy, who was my dad's best friend. They'd watched over me and spent many nights in my home, but it had been at my discretion, no one else's. The money from Charlie's insurance, alongside scholarships, was financing college and hopefully graduate school, if my application to Columbia's Journalism program proved successful.

"'Bout time," Angela lamented as I threw my bag into the trunk of Ben's Toyota. Her attempt at being grumpy was totally ruined by the blinding smile she sent me before squealing and folding me into her embrace. "I can't believe we finally talked you into this!"

Sliding into the back seat of Ben's baby as soon as she released me, I rolled my eyes. "Yay!" I cheered in the most sarcastic voice I could manage, belying how excited I was about the road trip.

"Now, c'mon, Bella. You are so going to totally love this. Ben got us reservations at one of the nicer inns in Sleepy Hollow, and we have tickets for the tour Google claimed was the best. Isn't this going to be better than spending Halloween holed up in the dorm while everyone else parties?"

"Sure."

Not.

She and Ben had been attempting to get me to go on this gig for three years now, and she'd only guilted me into it by pulling out the tears and reminding me this could be our last Halloween together. Angela was determined to go to medical school, and she was looking into Harvard. With her grades, it was likely she'd make it, too. My heart had lurched at the realization I'd be losing her soon, like everyone else in my life, and in a moment of weakness, I'd agreed to the weekend trip.

She and Ben were all into watching a television show that documented the trials and tribulations of a very handsome and properly British Ichabod Crane as he battled against the evil forces threatening the town and humankind as we know it. Angela's sweet, romantic heart was devastated by the fact the same forces had separated Ichabod from his true love, Katrina, and that Ichabod fought valiantly to be reunited with her, only to be foiled time and time again.

A gorgeous, romantic hero. A feisty heroine. A romance doomed by fate and dark forces. A love searching for a way to be complete.

It was the perfect story line to warm anyone's heart and inspire lurid fantasies.

 _Blah_ . . . _bittersweet, angst-ridden love,_ I thought, then giggled as Ben drove carefully out of New York City headed to the town of North Tarrytown – which had adopted the name of Sleepy Hollow in 1996 to honor its famous son, Washington Irving, the author of "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow." Angela was a romantic. Me, not so much. That I was scarred from losing my parents wasn't something I would deny, but I wasn't a total loss. I believed in love; it was just I hadn't found that special someone who'd convince me of the possibility of forever. Watching the show with Angela had made my heart hurt. The man had been torn away from his love by evil, forever separated, but constantly searching for his way back. Knowing my luck with love, I'd never find that level of devotion and belonging.

Sighing, I realized I was already sliding into a negative frame of mind after promising Angela to enjoy myself.

 _How much would it cost me to go along with her enthusiasm_? I asked, and smiled at the answer. _Nothing but a weekend with my bestie and her boy._

Settling in for the hour-plus trip north, I decided to quit being a sourpuss. So when Angela put on some old-school Beastie Boys, much to Ben's regret, I belted out the songs along with her as the miles passed us by.

~SH~

The town of Sleepy Hollow had character.

Quaint houses sat on narrow streets crowded by large oaks, their limbs stripped of leaves by the October winds and dangling down like fingers ready to ensnare someone. Everywhere I looked, scarecrow decorations and pumpkin pyramids lightened the gloom, welcoming visitors with a riot of fall colors. The picturesque shops all had window signs declaring their tours to be the best and touting the Halloween Night extravaganzas. Most of the advertisements were decorated with ghouls and goblins, but they always featured a silhouette of a man dressed in black astride a horse.

There was even a large statue of the Headless Horseman in a small grassy median. It was larger than life and done in black metal which added to the menace. He'd been depicted as a tall, slender man, his hips narrow, but with broad shoulders and muscled thighs. The strongly built horse had reared on its back legs, the front hoofs poised as if to strike, while the adept horseman held aloft one hand, managing the reins of the bridle with the other. As if to discredit the terrifying myth, someone had carved a pumpkin and placed it around whatever the horseman held in his hand. To add even more joviality, instead of a ghoulish face, the Jack-O-Lantern had a cocky grin with a sole tooth. I wondered what the tourism people thought about the vandal's humor, considering the allure of the terrifying horseman was their draw.

As for me, the horseman was mesmerizing. I felt the inexplicable need to approach the statue and really look at it, touch it. There was something sad about him, bittersweet but intriguing. It was if he called to me. My heart throbbed unexplainably as I turned in the seat to continue gazing upon the statue and felt lost when it faded into the distance.

 _How silly_ , I thought and shook my head.

Not much further, we passed a pretty stone building and a sign at the side of the road declared it was the Old Dutch Church, established in 1907. A glimmer of light at the corner of the structure caught my attention, and I pressed closer to the window to see if I could discover the source. The weather was overcast, the dull grey clouds adding to the ambience of Halloween Day, but I doubted the brief flickers of sunlight that did filter through would explain anything. Seeing the backs of a couple walking to the side of the church, I reasoned the tiny dark headed woman must have been looking in a mirror while the tall blond man guided her. Suddenly she turned, staring straight toward me. I couldn't see her face clearly, but I swear I felt her eyes scanning me. The man leaned over and touched her shoulder and a smile sliced across her pale face. Turning toward me at something the woman said, he cocked his head. They disappeared from my sight as we continued down the road.

"Our Inn is just up ahead," Ben announced. He then literally vibrated in his seat. "Look! _Mythbusters_ is here!" He pointed to a van with the white lettering of the show outlined in red.

Observing the crazy activity around the parked vehicle, I shook my head. "I thought they only investigated claims of science?"

Ben scoffed. "Well, Adam is from Sleepy Hollow, so maybe he came home to do a Halloween special. And the study of spirits could be considered science."

"Adam?" Angela's voice rose.

"Adam Savage, the co-host."

"Can I tell you how lame it makes you sound, considering you refer to him by his first name, as if you know him?" She finally had a moment of sanity, and I snickered at the stunned look on Ben's face.

"Should we talk about how and when you call out Ichabod's name?" he raised an eyebrow at her, causing Angela to shriek.

"TMI!" I shouted, laughing over their teasing.

In my opinion, she and Ben watched entirely too much television. It did my heart good to see him playfully flick his hand at her, and her responding love-tap to his shoulder. At the next light, _Siri_ told Ben to turn, and we entered into an older residential area. Our bed and breakfast was located at the end of the street. It was a gorgeous stone and brick home that most likely dated back to the early 1900s. Whoever owned it had restored it nicely. Our check-in was quick and painless, and Angela had no more allowed me to throw my bag across the bed before she and Ben were at my door wanting to spend the rest of the afternoon touring the village and town.

"We'll eat something in town. I'm too excited to stay around here," she responded when I mentioned lunch.

Pulling a piece of paper out of her pocket, she listed all the things we "needed" to do to consider our stay a success before dragging me by my hand out into the cool air.

~SH~

My feet hurt, my legs ached, I was thirsty and tired, and these were only a few of the things I wanted to grumble about when I slammed the door in Angela's grinning face. She and Ben had put me through hell. We'd visited every shop and done the typical tours, only to end up at Van Cortlandt Manor at dusk to see _The Blaze_ – an exhibit where at least a thousand carved pumpkins were on fiery display. She was allowing me . . . _allowing me_ . . . an hour of free time to do whatever I wanted before we headed out to the church for a graveyard tour before the haunted hayride.

I wanted to tell her what to do with the tour and ride, but as soon as I collapsed onto the bed, I grinned. We'd had a lot of fun. I should've been asleep immediately, but the shiver of apprehension that passed across my skin kept me awake. I'd felt as if I was being watched all day, and several times when I looked over my shoulder, I could've sworn I saw a figure quickly disappearing behind buildings. All I'd seen was a flash of blond hair. At times, I'd felt the literal sense of danger; at others, I'd feel a wave of calmness infiltrating my every pore. Paranoia wasn't my finest quality, so I decided to blame it on the crowds. I wasn't really good with large groups, and the town was filled with Halloween guests. We'd literally bumped into so many people I'd lost the scarf I'd tied around my neck. I fucking loved that scarf and had had it since high school. It was tattered and threadbare, but I'd worn it for what seemed a million years.

It was just one more thing to bitch about, but not right now, my mind said. Instead, I floated away into a dream where I shivered from a coldness and sweet scent that enveloped me.

~SH~

"Okay, so we've got to hurry to meet James, our tour guide, at the entrance to the Old Dutch Church. He'll take us through the cemetery there, then on to the Sleepy Hollow graves." Angela's enthusiasm and energy were infectious . . . well at least after I'd had a short nap.

She was already walking fast through the fading light. Around us, Trick-or-Treaters in various costumes dashed from door to door. Vampires, ghosts, pumpkins, and witches were joined by superheroes and zombies. I even spotted at least three Headless Horsemen mixed in the crowds. Ben walked beside Angela, leaving me to bring up the rear as the happy laughter of children mixed with chatter of adults, both residents and sightseers. It truly was a spectacular night, and with the winsome town, ambience, and costumes, it was something out of a Norman Rockwell painting. As we approached the church, the group we'd be touring with milled around the entrance. The guide would certainly do good business considering the size of the crowd. Some already held lanterns to ward off the encroaching darkness and a cold wind whipped around us. While Angela handed the woman in charge our tickets, a movement drew my eyes to a young man leaning against the gate.

Staring at me with narrowed eyes, his lips were drawn into a tight line. It appeared he leaned in my direction, as if he'd stopped himself from lunging. It was a look of such hate or hunger, I couldn't decide which, that I took a step back, directly into Ben. His grunt of pain brought apologies to my lips, but my focus was dragged back to the man. He hadn't moved, but the look on his face was friendly, his stance relaxed - so very different from what I'd viewed - I questioned what I thought I'd seen. Pushing to a stand, he approached the group, but his eyes never left mine.

"Good evening, I'm James. I'll be your guide tonight through the hallowed grounds," he said as he stepped into the light.

He was dressed in unrelenting black, and it highlighted his pale skin and black eyes. Several of the girls in the group sighed, but his deep voice caused a chill to race across my skin. I didn't like him, and I didn't know why. Jerking my eyes from his, I stepped closer to Ben and the group as a whole. While a young girl passed out candle-lit lanterns to those without one, I heard what sounded suspiciously like a hiss coming from James, followed by the soft sound of footsteps. We'd been joined by two more guests, and the alluring scent I'd fallen asleep to surrounded me.

Angels.

There was no other explanation for their ethereal beauty.

The dark haired woman I'd seen beside the church stepped beside me. She had the oddest golden eyes, as did her friend. And while I would equate the first girl to being so small she was a pixie, the other was more a svelte beauty. Long blonde hair hanging down her back, she had the body a model would cry for . . . tall, slim, and toned. The pixie was grinning at me with glee, while the blonde smiled softly, her eyes raking me over and assessing. I waited for her disapproval. I was in my usual t-shirt, bulky jacket, and jeans, and they look like they shopped in Paris. But when her focus returned to my face, her smile brightened, as if she'd been given a great present.

"I'm Alice," the dark headed one said. "This is my sister, Rose."

I was pretty much struck dumb, so Angela stepped in and introduced us.

"Do you mind if we tag along with your group?" Alice asked. "Our sister and husbands are kinda busy, and I just couldn't miss the tour. I have a good feeling we might see the horseman, tonight."

Angela squealed with glee and started speaking so fast it almost sounded like she was speaking in tongues. Alice somehow followed her babble, and they ended up laughing about something. Like me, Rose appeared to be a little more reserved. She rolled her eyes at Alice, and when she realized I'd caught her doing it, she winked at me.

"She takes some getting used to."

Her voice was like liquid sex, and I wonder what her husband must look like. I was imagining some big jock, because it would take someone like that to keep the other guys away.

"Angela and Ben are nearly as bad."

When the group started forward, Alice stepped to Angela's side, while Rose did the same with me. It put them between me and the guide, so I didn't really argue. The man was giving me the serious creeps, even if he was trying to appear all warm, fuzzy, and gracious now.

Angela and Alice asked questions nonstop during the tour of the church and the cemetery, and it was only when we came to the Sleepy Hollow gravesites that Alice quieted. James' covert glares had been consistent, but I'd noted his anger seemed to have focused on Alice, not me. She appeared oblivious to his bitterness, and even turned back to smile at me, her eyes crinkling gracefully, when we stopped in front of an old looking stone.

Whether I liked him or not, James was knowledgeable about the area, and there'd been gasps of horror and laughter amidst the historical facts and multiple ghost stores. If I hadn't caught him glaring at my companions at every chance, I could've forgotten about the initial impression of rage and thoroughly enjoyed the tour. As to the subject of ghost stories, there were many, which surprised me; Sleepy Hollow, it would seem, was considered to be one of the most haunted sites in America. James had proven quiet theatrical with his accounts, which were entertaining, and being surrounded by the centuries-old graves, stone church, and large marble statues of winged angels was enough to give even me the chills.

Returning to the gravestone we'd stopped at previously, James carefully placed his hand on the edifice.

"Now to one of our more famous residents. This is the grave of Washington Irving. He wrote "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow" in 1820. As many of you know, in the story, Ichabod Crane, a gangly school teacher, hoped to woo Katrina, the daughter of a wealthy farmer, into marriage, but he had a worthy adversary in Brom Bones. It seems both men made a play for Katrina's hand in marriage at a dance. Accepting he'd lost to Brom, Ichabod left the party and wandered home through Sleepy Hollow. There, he met a specter, the Headless Horseman. The horseman is purported to be the tortured soul of a Hessian officer who lost his head when a cannonball decapitated him during an American Revolutionary War battle fought not far from here. Historical accounts indicate the man's body was rescued by his fellow soldiers and buried in an unmarked grave somewhere in this cemetery, but his soul wanders the area looking for a head to replace the one he lost. "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow" doesn't tell us what happened to Ichabod, just that he was never seen again, his riderless horse returning to the village the next morning."

A young girl standing close to me asked, "Is it a true story?" Her eyes were as big as saucers, glittering in the light given off by the lanterns we held.

James smiled sweetly at her, transferring the look to me gracefully. "Yes, yes it is. Although it is entirely likely Mr. Irving changed the names of the characters, it is widely accepted there was a 'Katrina' who was loved by two men. However, in the end, only one prevailed in acquiring her hand. Perhaps the Headless Horseman is really controlled by Ichabod now, and instead of a head, he searches fruitlessly . . ." he seemed to emphasize that word " . . . for his love."

I sensed more than saw Alice and Rose stiffen beside me. It was such a strange reaction that I discredited my observation.

"I heard the Headless Horseman points to his victims and they immediately die?" a young boy of no more than twelve asked, steering the crowd's attention away from a possible love tale and back toward the gore.

James arched an eyebrow at the statement. "Legends hold that men and women have fallen prey to him only after he's selected them in some manner. Some say he does so by pointing, others imply he calls their names. We don't know what may have happened to those people who were by themselves, but the stories hold even those selected out of groups disappear before the night is done . . . vanishing into the fog, never to be seen again."

"Fog?" A lady who'd introduced herself as Mrs. Cope asked.

Her voice was but a squeak, and perhaps it was because the overcast day had transformed into a perfectly gothic night sky. A huge full moon hung low on the inky black horizon and tendrils of fog traced across the ground in narrow fingers. It was a setting worthy of any horror movie. Angela and Ben had absolutely had a fit when they realized we could be in Sleepy Hollow on Halloween–a Halloween with a full moon. It was why they'd mounted their campaign for me to come this year so diligently, and it was apparent their planning had been well rewarded.

"Yes, like tonight. It covers the ground making it difficult to see and navigate." His eyes bore into mine. "It's easy for an unsuspecting soul to meet their fate."

Even I, cynic I am, shivered at the foreboding tone of James's voice. Unexplainably, Alice and Rose both stepped a little closer to me.

"Is there any truth to the suspicion the Headless Horseman was actually Brom Bones in disguise, and that he killed Ichabod as a way of eliminating his competition?" The question came from a man in the front. He and his wife both wore t-shirts with the figure blazed on front.

The flash of rage that passed over James's face was so quickly disguised I questioned myself again, until I glanced at Alice. I couldn't say exactly how I would describe her facial expression, but the word I would use was _taunting_. Eyebrow arched, she was smirking at James.

"That isn't how the story goes," he replied in a tone that suggested he was offended.

His answer and reaction were disconcerting, like there was more to the picture than I was seeing. Actually, a lot of what he'd said seemed to have carried secret messages and implications.

"But it's how our story ends tonight. I so hope you enjoy your hayride." He bowed politely before spinning on his heel and walking away. He was so quick that those who'd taken money out to tip him didn't even have the chance to do so.

"Well, he's strange. Good riddance." Angela summed it up.

I could've sworn I heard Alice mutter, "You have no clue."

~SH~

While Rose spoke with Angela and Ben, Alice managed to wrangle an abbreviated version of my life story before we finished the short walk to the firehouse, where we'd pick up the Haunted Hayride.

"So you're all by yourself?" Her eyes misted, highlighting the golden color.

"Well, I have Angela and Ben. And there's also Jake."

"Jake?" Rose's tone was harsh.

"Jacob Black. He's my friend from back home in Forks."

There was no missing the strange look passed between Rose and Alice, but I didn't have time to question it when a voice, calling Rose's name, boomed out over all the others.

 _Yup, I'd been right_ , I thought when a mountain moved toward us, grabbing Rose into his arms and spinning her around.

He was extremely handsome with black curly hair and . . . gold eyes. The tall man I'd seen with Alice earlier moved gracefully to her, bending down to place a soft kiss on her cheek before running his fingertips down her jawline. It was the most romantic thing I'd ever seen.

"This is Jasper, my husband. And the oaf still mauling Rose is Emmett, her husband. Guys, this is Angela, Ben, and Bella. Isabella." Alice said my full name with flourish.

The two men focused on us. Well, it seemed to be only me, but I was trying not to be paranoid. I was stopped from commenting on their matching eye color when another young couple joined us; an extremely beautiful man and his equally stunning partner. While, with her long caramel colored hair and figure, she could've been a movie starlet from the 1950's, the man truly looked like an angel with his perfect face and . . .

Blond hair.

"Hey, were you following us today?" I blurted out before I could stop myself.

His eyebrows rose and a smile brightened his face. It was such a wondrous sight, I expected a halo to appear above his head and a host of angels to begin singing the _Hallelujah Chorus_ at any minute.

"I was." His admission stunned me speechless. After glancing to his partner and patting the hand she'd placed on his arm, he smirked at me. "I didn't mean to frighten you, but you reminded me of someone. I followed your group to ascertain if you were the young woman we'd known from before. Please accept my apology if I made you uncomfortable. I should have just introduced myself. By the way, I'm Carlisle Cullen and this is my wife, Esme." He reached for my hand, bringing it up to kiss my knuckles elegantly. I had to swallow hard.

"Carlisle and I have reserved a wagon for our family, why don't you join us? I'm afraid your wait will be long otherwise." She was right, the lines to load already wrapped around the building.

Her smile made me melt. She wasn't much older than me, but I felt like I wanted to walk into her arms and lay down all my troubles. Although I had no reason to trust them, a sense of such peace and safety surrounded me at the idea. Angela's acceptance of their offer was almost immediate, but I started to question the decision when Jasper moved to the front of the buggy, jumping up to take the reins from the guide.

"Jazz has been around horses all his life," Alice explained, and I wondered if my thoughts had been that clear. "He has an affinity for them."

Her husband tipped his head at us, like he was pulling a cowboy hat down on his head. "Sorry, ma'am. It's a force of habit. Soldiers don't let anyone else take care of their mounts."

It was the first time he'd spoken, and I melted at the southern charm. Damn . . .

But my enjoyment was ruined by Emmett's braying laughter. Rose smacked his head even as he muttered out "take care of his mount."

Jasper shook his head and tsked at the horse to begin. The man in the seat beside him looked like he wanted to bolt; poor guy, he probably thought the group of siblings was crazy. They probably were with their freaky matching contacts and wicked senses of humor, but I was feeling safer than I had all day and already enjoying this trip much more than I had the tour with James.

The city of Sleepy Hollow had gone all out on the decorations for the ride, and I settled into the hay between Esme and Alice, wrapping the blankets around my legs as we entered through the gate. A stuffed Grim Reaper presided over the arch above it, a sign warning those who entered to do so at their own risk. Emmett caught my attention and waggled his eyebrows at me. I couldn't help but snicker at his little-boy behavior.

"We'll be entering the haunted forest within the next few feet. To your left, you'll see the remnants of the bridge described in 'The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.' It was across this bridge that Ichabod was chased by the horseman."

The guide waxed on with the tale we'd already heard, attempting to make it dramatic. As much as I hated to admit it, James was a much better storyteller. The man had just reached the point of telling us about Ichabod entering the forest when a ghost flew down at us, moaning loudly. The spirit's arms reached out in an attempt to grab someone, and Jasper slapped the rear of the horse, causing the beast to jump into a canter. Angela shrieked, jumping into Ben's lap, and I couldn't help but laugh at her, considering you could see the zip line the person was using. It was pretty amazing either way, making me wonder how many workers waited to bombard the wagons as they came through.

Teasing Angela, Ben attempted to look cool, but I'd seen him jump.

"Didn't it scare you, Bella?" Emmett asked, his eyebrow raised.

"Pfft! It'll take more than that. My friend Jake has tried to spook me all my life with tales of vampires and werewolves. His 'legends' are so colorful, I think he's half convinced of them. He and his friends were always trying to scare me in the woods behind my home in Forks - you know, huffing and puffing like wild animals behind the trees while I hiked."

There was a moment of dead silence before the guide started back up.

The next fright involved a horde of zombies surrounding the wagon. Fake rotten teeth gnashed as the apocalyptic demons reached in to grab us. Angela and Ben were at least laughing at this diversion. Even when the group rocked the wagon, it still caused her to giggle. Finally, a "human" ran out of the trees begging for our help, which drew the zombies' attention. As the group of hungry dead bodies raced toward the worker, scaring him back into the woods, Jasper moved us forward.

It would appear the interactive scares like the zombie and ghost were to be split up with several blocks of forest. However, the exhibit planners didn't let the travelers rest during the intermissions. The sounds of human screams and night animals were piped through speakers, startling you from every direction, while sensors in the trail triggered stuffed bats and other rigged contraptions to lower down unexpectedly. I was actually enjoying the ride, not because of the fake horror shows, but because of Ben's and Angela's reactions.

We'd reached a large stand of trees, the road cutting between them and through the ominous dark, when I felt it again . . . the feeling of being watched. Instinctually turning, I stared into the darkness.

"What's wrong?" Alice asked.

"When your brother was following me around town, I sensed it. But he's here now, and –"

"Where, Bella?" Emmett was at my side instantly.

What? Was he going to go traipsing into the woods? "Over there," I pointed to the area, and he was just gone.

I sputtered and turned to the others. "What the hell!" I shrieked, finding Angela and Ben passed out, the driver beside them.

"Bella, trust me?" Alice asked softly, her cold hand holding mine.

"Um . . ."

That was all it took, and I was flying through the air on Jasper's back. The night streaked around me as fog encroached on each side, but I was too stunned to speak. As Jasper dashed between trees, the others following, the limbs zinging by me at an alarming rate blurred in psychedelic-like colors. I felt sick to my stomach and wanted to tell them to stop, but I knew, deep down inside, that to do so would mean my death.

 _Bells . . . the wolves . . . our enemies are the cold ones. They're vampires. Our kind, we're designed to kill them. They're fast. We're faster._

Jacob's words from so long ago came back to me. I should be terrified, and I was, but not of them. It was what was coming that concerned me. The Cullens appeared to be talking, but I couldn't hear anything. Alice threw out her arm, and Jasper turned sharply, running across the side of a large boulder to catapult us in that direction.

I was being jarred against his stone-like body, but I kept my mouth shut. However, when we tore into a small meadow, my stomach dropped. Poised directly in the middle was a Headless Horseman impersonator, and he was in our way. Jasper would kill the worker if he plowed into him; what was chasing us would certainly do the same.

"Run," I screamed and the man's horse reared in response.

When its hooves hit the ground, nausea threatened again, because I'd begun hallucinating; there was no other explanation for the fire snorting from the horse's nostrils. A shrill whinny cut through the night as the figure angled toward us. Certainly I had to be wrong, because in the direct moonlight, it was clear the man wasn't headless, just that he wore a black mask, his eyes glittering behind the holes. Pretentious bearing, he sat straight in the saddle, power exuding from his lithe body. It was as if the statue in the median had come to life.

Jasper slid to a stop, Carlisle moving ahead of us and throwing his arms out wide in a protective fashion. He stood between us and the man, while Jasper spun a hundred and eighty degrees at a rate that made me dizzy. Emmett ran out of the forest headed directly toward us.

"They're coming," Emmett announced with a toothy smile and cracking of knuckles as he slid to a stop beside Jasper.

"Who? What?" I asked, but was ignored.

"We've got her," Alice said to Jasper, pulling me like a ragdoll from his back.

I didn't even have time to blink before I was surrounded by Esme, Rose, and Alice. Linking their hands, the women faced outward, keeping me trapped in the middle of the makeshift triangle.

"What the hell is going on?" I whispered harshly, but any answer was cut off as two figures emerged from a billowing mass of fog that'd followed Emmett.

James was accompanied by a red haired woman. She was pale as snow and her hair floated around her face in a manner that reminded me of Medusa.

"Release her." James's voice carried the distance between us.

The Headless Horseman screamed, and the sound was agonizing, making the hair on my arm stand on edge. What was it I'd thought about the statue? That it was sad. Sad wasn't even the right word. Tortured, more like. I instinctually moved toward him, coming to a stop when Esme wouldn't let me pass. The horseman's face jerked toward me as I watched him, and a frisson of heat passed over me at the connection.

"Isabella!" James called out, and I forced myself to turn to him. The horseman moaned when I did so.

"Carlisle, you know how this ends. She belongs with us." James continued as shadowy figures danced in the fog surrounding him and the woman. "Isabella, I'm sorry I scared you at the graveyard, but I was overwhelmed the prophecy was finally coming true. It's time, my dear, for you to return to me." He held his hand out for me graciously.

"Prophecy?"

This time my question didn't go ignored. "Not a prophecy, but the true story of 'The Headless Horseman'," Alice answered softly. "Two men, one love. A choice."

The horse galloped toward us, the cape of the horseman flying behind him like the wings of a bat. Backed by the full moon, he presented an eerie sight as he hovered low against the horse's back. If this is what others had seen in the past, I could understand the fear. What had happened to all those people? The ones who'd disappeared at his beckoning?

Carlisle darted to stand before the specter, and the horse reared in reaction, hoofs beating against his chest. The scream that bubbled out of my throat gurgled when I saw that Carlisle didn't move. He should've been dead.

 _Vampires, remember Bella . . ._

"Edward, son, do you remember me?" Carlisle asked. There was such pain in his voice I wanted to cry.

 _Wait? Son?_

The horse jogged another way, but Carlisle managed to stay between us.

A howl, like a wounded animal, tore from the black shrouded figure. When the wind blowing across us sent leaves swirling over me and around the horseman, he went crazy. The horse tore at the ground and the horseman leaned over its neck, hands claw-like on the reins. The black steed reared above Carlisle again and Emmett appeared at his side, taking the attack against his thick arms.

"Dude, calm down," Emmett chuckled, clearly not in touch with the seriousness of our situation.

"What's wrong with him?" I asked, putting my hand on Esme's shoulder. She was cold and stone-like, but shaking.

"He'll devour you, Isabella. Just like he's done all the others. Look at him, no soul left, only the insatiable hunger." James's voice was prideful, as if this was a good thing.

"Because you had your witch curse him!" Rose's tone was venomous. "You couldn't win Isabella on your own, so you resorted to dark magic. Does Victoria know you will toss her to the side if Isabella chooses you, or does she think you only want Bella for the coven?"

Flashes lit the fog as the red-headed woman stepped forward, her fingertips trailing over the white puffs lovingly. "Shut up," she snarled.

The sound of thunder filled the air, while horrible screeches came from the fog Victoria stroked. Finger-like projections emerged from the billows of white wrapping around her wrists and stroking her skin. When James and Victoria floated closer, the fog thickened, covering their legs. Jasper didn't retreat even though tendrils began to lick at him, and spikes of pain shot unexpectedly through the soles of my feet. Behind us, the horseman continued to growl and attempt to get around Emmett and Carlisle. He was frantic, trying to outmaneuver them.

Crashing thunder and swirling winds. Demonic fog. A crazed man and his witch. The Headless Horseman intent on destroying me. A family attempting to protect me from both. It was too much. Too surreal. This was either the best damn Halloween ride in the world, or I was going crazy.

Lightening crackled across the sky and the winds picked up, whipping around us. Above us, the fog built in waves, and I expected them to crash down on the meadow at any time like a tsunami. The woman, Victoria, stirred the fog with her fingers, sending shards toward Jasper with quick flicks of her wrists. I felt his pain with each lash, crying out at the agony as scar after scar appeared across his arms and face.

It was difficult to say what happened first, but at my outburst, Alice, Esme, and Rose were thrown away from me with a force that sent them tumbling. James rushed forward; he and Jasper engaging hand to hand, and the horseman . . . Edward . . . spun around and took off in the opposite direction. It was a short retreat. One he used to gallop at full speed back toward us. The winds howled as the horse leaped into the air, knocking both Carlisle and Emmett aside, and the earth shook when it came back down. Mere feet from me.

James called my name, as did the Cullens, but I was transfixed by the man staring down at me. The horse huffed, pulling great breaths of air into its chest and sending my hair swirling, while the fog crept to me, latching onto my ankles. A lightning bolt sizzled close by, but nothing tore my eyes from the glittering ones behind the mask.

That moment I'd looked at the statue hours before, the moment I'd felt the unexplainable need to touch it, rushed over me, making me dizzy with want.

Two men . . . one love.

A choice.

Isn't that what Alice had said?

When the hand drenched in black reached for me, I knew there was no choice.

The Earth trembled beneath me when our hands connected and heat traveled up my arm and into my heart, electrifying it. The strangest sense of peace filled me, and I saw the Headless Horseman take a deep breath, his broad chest expanding beneath his shroud.

 _Bella._

My name came from somewhere in a voice I hadn't heard. It was like velvet wrapping around me. A gasp fell from my lips, and with a quick tug, the fog's hold on me was broken. I landed in the Headless Horseman's arms.

A horrible screech drew my attention as we turned. Alice had the red haired witch on the ground, while James had collapsed, his hands grabbing at his chest even as Jasper reached for his head. To the other side, Carlisle lunged for us, calling my name and Edward's. But my horseman nudged the powerful beast beneath us, leaping for freedom as Emmett reached for the reins. The speed at which the horse raced into the fog surpassed what I'd experienced with Jasper. It was only when I felt Edward lean down to place his face to my neck and heard his snarl that I questioned my sanity. A strongly muscled arm looped around my chest, just below my breasts, securing my back to his chest as we sprinted. My long hair blew around my face and him as we moved across the meadow and into the forest.

The storm clouds covered the moon and sky, rendering the night almost entirely black as Edward flew through the trees. It was only when we approached a stream that we stopped. I didn't even have a chance to speak before he pulled me from the horse and pushed me to the ground, my back landing in a bed of moss beside the stream. Covering my body with his, he pressed me into the ground as his fingers tightened painfully in my hair, stretching my neck to the side, exposing my artery.

Vampire . . .

I'd made the wrong choice, and now I was going to die, my mind said.

In contrast, my heart beat softly, calmly.

One choice. Love.

Laying my hands on his forearms, I called to the man, not the beast. "Edward?"

A harsh growl rumbled in my ear, but he'd stopped. I felt the muscles in his arm tense and release repeatedly. Needing to see his face, I moved my hands slowly up his arms to the edge of the dark mask. A keening wail emitted from his chest when I touched the cloth.

"Shh . . . I've got you." Slowly, I pulled it off, but I only got a glimpse of copper colored hair, pale skin, and garish red eyes. He moved too quickly for me to get a picture of his features.

Feeling his teeth on my skin, I waited for the searing pain. While my brain told me to scream, my heart told me not to struggle. Sliding my fingers along his neck slowly, I threaded them through his hair, tugging softly. He startled back at my touch, and my heart stopped when I saw him.

Exquisite.

Pale skin was offset by his thick unruly hair, thick eyebrows, a strong jaw and cheekbones, and his nose was a perfect match to the aristocratic features. I imagined him with golden eyes instead of the blood red ones staring at me and warmth spread in my chest. While I gazed upon him, a beast within contorted his features, telling of the internal battle.

Crazed, haunted, animalistic . . . but exquisite. He was too perfect to be a man.

My heart thundered so hard that I felt like it would burst from my chest. I loved this man. I knew it deep within my soul. How and why, I didn't know, but I didn't question the revelation. This night had opened my eyes to a world I'd never known existed, a realm of possibilities far beyond my understanding. Rose had claimed James cursed Edward, made him forget who he was. It was time to remind him.

"Edward." This time his name was a caress, drawing his attention to my lips.

His mouth twisted, and he shook his head, backing up even more. His lips parted, and I had the strangest sense he was trying to speak, but then his movements became jerky. He pulled to a crouch above me, and I watched the muscles in his jaws clench. When I tried to move, I was immediately pinned again, his long legs between mine, teeth to my artery. It was an extremely intimate pose.

Okay . . . so no moving.

Great puffs of his breath brushed along my neck, sending heat racing across my skin. I felt every inch of him as he pushed me back into the moss and lust took control. My nipples hardened and wetness seeped between my legs. His gasp was followed by a deep rumble, the vibrations of it rolling my eyes back into my head as all the right body parts moved together. My back arched, pressing me even closer to him when he ran his tongue along my jaw line.

Forget not moving!

Pushing my fingers into his hair, I held him to me. Twisting against him in pleasure, I felt the briefest of worries as to whether I would send him over the edge, but there was no will to stop. If I was going to die, this was the way to go. Cold lips trailed down across my clavicle and to the swell of my breast, the rasp of his tongue against my skin raising goose bumps. I moaned at the need to feel him inside me as stark desire lit me up. Wrapping my legs around his hips, I rocked against him, screaming in pleasure when his nuzzled my shirt and bra to the side, swiping my nipple with his cold tongue.

Tugging on his hair, I shuddered at his whimper, but used the chance to kiss the underside of his jaw when he finally released me. A hiss escaped him, but he didn't lunge at me. Trembling, he allowed my caresses, and I was lost. Awareness exploded through me when our lips touched in the softest of kisses.

Home.

His hand cupped the back of my head holding me still, and I felt his struggle. He vibrated, soft moans filling the space surrounding us. I pushed the limit, puckering quickly to touch his lips again, and he jerked toward me, then back.

So unsure.

Did he remember me, at all?

He must, because something told me I'd be dead, my blood flowing thickly through his veins, if he wasn't conflicted.

"Edward, I'm going to move a little. I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

A deep huff of breath was my only answer, but I took the risk, sliding back so that I could sit up. He was still balanced on his hands, so I wasn't but a few inches from him. Tracing his cheekbone with my fingertips, I smiled gently when he leaned his head toward my palm, nuzzling at my wrist. Eyes closed, the sinister side to him was hidden, and it was easy to see him as an angel.

A beautiful, lost angel.

When I touched his lips with my fingertips, his eyes popped open, assessing me.

"Come back to us. Your family . . . me." He went stiff at my words, but I ventured on, framing his face with my hands. Brushing my thumb across his lips, I couldn't control my shudder of need.

"I love you. " I nuzzled him, sliding our cheeks together. "It would seem I have always loved you."

He disappeared, and I cried out, believing he'd vanished until I saw him several feet away. On his knees, Edward bowed to the ground as he twisted in agony. Cries of intense pain ripped from him, and his fingers tore his clothing and scored his skin, causing great gashes that healed immediately. It appeared that two creatures wrestled for control of the man I loved. Body contorting, he howled to the moon, startling birds out of the trees closest to us. Their raucous cries joined his screams. I could no more stop crawling toward him than stop breathing. He collapsed in a heap when I touched him, and I pulled his head onto my lap, threading my fingers through his hair. He was as still as death and my tears ran down my face, only to fall onto him.

 _No, oh please no,_ I begged silently as time passed.

~SH~

"Bella!" Carlisle cried out in the distance, and I yelled out to him.

Within a moment, the Cullens surrounded me, Carlisle going to his knees. "Did he hurt you? Bite you?" he asked quickly, his eyes assessing.

"No." Dashing the tears away with one hand, I smoothed Edward's tousled hair away from his face. "I don't think he could."

"See, I told you, Carlisle. When are you going to learn to not bet against me?" Alice grinned broadly as she sat to the other side of Edward. "He's going to be fine, Bella."

Esme put her arm around my shoulder, hugging me gently while Emmett, Rosalie, and Jasper watched over us. Carlisle removed the shredded cloak from Edward, throwing it to the side before opening the buttons of his shirt.

"If I never see him in black again, it will be too soon," he muttered.

"Would someone please explain to me what just happened?" I asked, and Jasper sat beside Alice, pulling her into his lap.

"Little darlin', it's a long story, but suffice it to say, you've saved Edward's life." When I growled at him in frustration, Jasper chuckled, lifting his hands in defeat. "As with all urban myths, there's always a grain of truth. You were Isabella even then, not Katrina. And Edward was definitely no Ichabod, although I'm not sure which name is worse." Emmett interrupted Jasper's tale with laughter, but pretended to zip his lips when I glared at him. Thankfully, Jasper continued. "James, not Brom, realized you loved Edward and would do anything to be with him, so he charmed Jane, a witch, into conjuring a spell. Edward – or Ichabod for the story – was destroyed by the Headless Horseman, just not in the way the legend tells. He was cursed to ride as the creature every All Hallow's Eve for eternity, only to disappear with the first light of dawn."

"Unless true love released him." Alice glanced up to her husband with such love it was tangible. She took over the tale at that point. "What James didn't know was Jane figured out why he'd asked for her help, that he wanted you for himself, so, in spite, she altered the spell, making you Edward's singer."

"Singer?"

Rose answered. "Your blood calls to him like no other." She glanced to Carlisle quickly, and I realized he held Edward's hand, his eyes focused on the man in my lap. "As best as we've been able to tell, Edward disappears into some enchanted netherworld at the breaking of dawn. His hunger is ravenous when he is released to the Earth after a year of not feeding. The spell robbed him of his control."

"And left you his sirloin steak surrounded by tofu." Emmett grinned broadly even as Rose smacked her husband's washboard stomach.

Esme squeezed my shoulder again gently. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Jane wanted to make sure if you ever returned to Sleepy Hollow, that it was likely James would see you murdered before his eyes by the very beast he'd created."

"But Edward didn't hurt me. It was touch and go, I'll admit, but something held him back."

"Which tells me the essence of my son is still very much alive." Carlisle spoke softly, but his words were laden with emotion. Golden eyes gleaming with moisture, he watched me. "When Edward thought he'd lost you, he believed it was because you wanted a life outside of our existence."

"As a vampire?"

He nodded solemnly. "Yes. So when Edward disappeared, we thought he'd gone off by himself to mourn. But then you vanished the night after his horse returned covered in blood, and it was suspected you'd wandered into the woods and taken your life. It was only afterward that we uncovered what had truly happened. Unfortunately, we were too late."

"But I don't understand, James is a vampire too, right?"

"Was." Jasper's grin was bloodthirsty.

Alice and he shared broad smiles before she added, "He guessed what we were and approached one of our kind to change him. Believing the witch's prophecy that he'd only be at peace once you were found, he took a blood oath to hunt for you for eternity."

"And we've traveled every year to spend All Hallow's Eve in Sleepy Hollow hoping you'd return, and that we'd be able to control Edward long enough to desensitize him to your scent." Rose brought out my ragged scarf and gently handed it to me. "To convince you to love him again in hopes of breaking the spell."

"Have I?" I asked, glancing down to the angel sleeping in my lap.

Carlisle smiled serenely. "You chose him, Isabella, and he knows it this time." He smoothed Edward's hair back from his forehead. "There is nothing more powerful than love."

A soft moan broke through the conversation, drawing everyone's attention to the man stirring in my arms.

"Bella?" He cried out suddenly, grabbing at my legs frantically.

I began crying at the desperate way he'd said my name, barely seeing him sit up and reach for me through my tears. But I felt his love in the way our lips connected, in the hungry way he pulled me to straddle him and continued to kiss me over and over as his family surrounded us.

"Should we tell her about the change now?" It was Emmett speaking.

"I think they have more important things to discuss." Rose's voice was teasing.

"Gonna have to do it before we return to Forks, because I'm not being harassed by the mutts over the treaty, unless Carlisle will let me kill a few this time," he replied.

Another smack sounded around us, but it was all kinda foggy through the nirvana of Edward's kisses. The sweet taste of his lips and the smell of him made my skin tingle and my desire explode

"Hey, I'm just saying."

"Emmett, go make sure that Angela, Ben, and the driver made it back to the fire station after their little accident. Let them know that we'll be on our way soon, with Isabella," Esme suggested.

"Sure. Whatever. That's okay . . . I've got time before she finishes college to find her alone and impart my wisdom. You just don't want me telling her about her wolfy friends and Little Red Riding Hood."

"Emmett!" the family yelled, and Edward and I startled apart.

Fingertips brushing over my cheeks, Edward's red eyes flickered across my features. Gone was the haunted look; it was replaced by a soft smirk. I'd thought him exquisite as the monster. I didn't even have a word for him now. Wanting to be captured under him again, it wouldn't have hurt my feelings for his family to disappear so he could nibble on my neck.

"Love . . ." he breathed, pulling me back to kiss me until I was faint. He chuckled as I gasped for breath, and it was a miraculous sound.

"You came back to me." He pulled me closer, rubbing his cheek against mine.

Shaking my head gently, I used my fingers to tug on his hair. When I captured his attention, I placed one hand above his heart. "I don't think I ever left."

"Forever, Bella?" he whispered, his tone hopeful.

I could've sworn the family also waited with bated breath for my answer.

I leaned in close enough my lips brushed his when I spoke.

"Forever."


End file.
